But it's still on the list . . .

September 2014

09/29/2014

Over the weekend, my son, who is 6, discovered the joy of leftover pizza.

This was not a smooth process, as could be expected.

He claimed to want hot pizza. In the past, he's been fine with cold pizza, but really wanted something hot. So, I told him to microwave his pizza.

Now, this isn't completely out of line. He's microwaved things in the past. Chicken nuggets. Corn dogs. And he usually asks me how long to microwave things.

This time, he did not, and I let him make his own decision. Probably not the best idea, but, hey, eventually, at the age of 6, your parents have to stop looking out for you and let you learn by doing.

He chose 9 minutes.

After a couple minutes, smoke rising from the microwave . . .

He shut it off.

He did not panic, he did not worry, he shut it off. Then he told me (with his fingers in his ears, ready for the shouting). I rather calmly walked over to the microwave, and took out a smoking pizza briquette that had fused to the plastic plate beneath it, and said, also calmly, "What did we learn?"

To which he said, "Don't microwave pizza for 9 minutes."

After that, I had a little laugh, and told him that the best plan for anything he needs to microwave is to never use more than two numbers.

Chicken nuggets? 45. Corn dog? 55. Pizza? 35. That's seconds and it's plenty for things he might want to make on his own.

Of course, the house still smells like burnt pizza, but at least we're all still alive. And the pizza wasn't anything I'd worry about wasting a slice of anyway.